


We Should Do This More Often

by JessicaHearts



Series: Normal People Stuff [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Super-assassins cooking together, and playing Mario Kart, it's really really sweet okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaHearts/pseuds/JessicaHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cooking can't be that difficult, right? Other people can do it, why not them? Natasha and Clint's attempt at 'normal people stuff'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Should Do This More Often

“Give me the salt,” Natasha said and held her hand out.

“You sure this needs more salt?” Clint wanted to know and came closer.

Natasha pursed her lips. “Of course I am. Now, give me the salt.”

Clint raised his eyebrows slightly and moved his hand as if to actually stick his finger into the pot, which was still boiling, and taste the soup. She hit his fingers with her spoon and Clint immediately pulled his hand back with a startled “ouch!” and cradled it against his chest with his other hand. He looked actually hurt that she had hit him and Natasha had to smile at his pout.

“What was that for?” he asked and gave her the sad eyes which only made Natasha smile harder. He used them way too often. Nobody ever fell for it anymore. At least no one who knew him.

“You know why,” she only answered, her voice leveled and calculated, and then held out her hand again. “Salt. Now.”

“I’m not afraid of you, you know” Clint rubbed over his fingers one last time and then he turned around, opened a drawer and threw the saltshaker at Natasha. She grabbed it right out of the air and shook a good amount of it into the soup.

“Get busy and peel the potatoes,” Natasha just said and she couldn’t help her voice sounding a bit fond. Clint grinned his stupid, knowing smirk at her and then turned back to the potatoes in front of him.

They had never cooked together before.

In fact, Natasha wasn’t really sure whether Clint had ever cooked once in his life before. He certainly pretended he had, but he wasn’t easy to see through at all. Not always anyways. He acted so sure of himself, like he knew what to do, like he was an expert at cooking. Like he was a real chef. Natasha looked over at him. And he also knew how to peel potatoes.

But that didn’t mean anything. Clint was good at pretending, just like she was. After all, it was their job. This might as well also be his first time cooking, just like it was hers actually.

No, that wasn’t true. Natasha had cooked before. A long time ago, in another life.

She shook her head and then took a spoonful of soup and tasted. She kept it in her mouth for a moment, letting the taste unfold on her tongue before she swallowed and smiled.

“That good, huh?” Clint said and Natasha twitched. He had watched her, the potatoes all peeled. He was leaning on the counter, a cute, kind of mischievous smile on his face. His eyes shone with a weird kind of emotion. Love, Natasha realized and could feel a pleasant warm shudder running down her back.

She threw her hair over her shoulder. “It is that good,” she said and then her own lips curled into a smile as she took another spoonful of soup and held it out invitingly for him. “Wanna try?”

Clint cocked his head to the side; his smirk grew and he stepped closer, opened up his mouth. Natasha smiled as he tasted the soup and nodded appreciatively.

“It really is that good,” he agreed and now it was Natasha’s turn to smirk cockily.

“I know.”

“This just has to cook for another few minutes, right?” Clint took her hand and pulled her gently over to where he had peeled the potatoes. “Because I may be a little lost here. What should I do next?”

He looked at her expectantly and Natasha frowned slightly. Was this a test? Did Clint ask her what to do just so he could find out whether Natasha actually knew what she was doing? Or wasn’t he playing pretend at all and really simply didn’t know how to continue?

“Tasha, come on, I may be a perfect chef, but I need to at least know what we’re going to cook before I can work my magic,” Clint teased her and poked her in the side. “I still don’t understand why I can't know what we’re making.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Because you wouldn’t know what it was even if I told you what it’s called.” Then she nodded, clearing her head. “Okay,” she said and clapped her hands together. “We slice the potatoes first. But we need really thin slices. Almost as thin as chips, you understand?”

“I can do that,” Clint said confidently. “What kind of dish is this anyways? Russian?”

“French,” Natasha answered and Clint raised his eyebrows, but then only nodded and got two knifes.

“Should I also throw it at you?” he asked jokingly and held one knife out.

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “I would catch it.”

“I know you would,” Clint said fondly and Natasha liked to think that he even sounded a bit proud as he said that. “But let’s not risk it.” He handed Natasha the knife and together they started slicing the potatoes.

Natasha was good at this, fast. She knew how to work a knife. Clint was only a little bit slower; Natasha saw it when she glanced over.

She liked this a lot. Working with Clint in comfortable silence. She always had liked working with Clint. Especially for SHIELD. She had worked with Melinda May before, with Maria Hill and even with Phil Coulson himself and of all those people she still liked working with Clint best.

May was collected. She always had complete control over every situation. She was without a doubt one of SHIELD’s best. With her Natasha got the job done quickly and efficiently. Maria was also nice to work with. A tad bit too emotional for Natasha’s liking, but she knew what she was doing.

But with Clint it was different, Clint was professional and incredibly unprofessional at the same time. Natasha didn’t even know how that was possible. He was dorky sometimes, goofing around and irritating Natasha horribly because she felt he didn’t take the job seriously. But he was also funny, always and easily annoyed, with a sarcastic comment on his lips and Natasha loved that about him.

And she knew he had her back. Whatever would happen, Clint would always have her back. She knew that Clint always put her before the job. And that was terrifying and reassuring at the same time.

“What now?” Clint asked as he pushed the potato slices from his cutting board into the casserole dish that Natasha had set up earlier. She did the same and thought back to when she had helped making this dish for the first time.

“We need… milk.” She only hesitated for a second. Either Clint didn’t notice or he simply didn’t care. “And cheese I think. No, I know. Cheese.”

“Let’s see,” Clint said and stepped to the refrigerator. He brought her three different kinds of cheese and a milk carton. She nodded distractedly, trying to remember what exactly was to be done next.

“You can just – put some spices on the potatoes and maybe grate some cheese, okay, while I will make – this.” She gestured to the milk and the packs of cheese and Clint smiled and nodded.

Natasha had the feeling that he knew that she didn’t know what exactly she was doing, but she chose to ignore in favor of taking everything she needed and putting it on the counter behind Clint so that they would have to continue with their backs to each other.

Natasha was lost. She didn’t know how exactly to continue but she also would never admit that to Clint. So she just took some of the already grated Parmesan cheese and mixed it together with the milk in a bowl. She threw some pepper and salt in it and then nodded to herself. This would work.

“So,” Natasha said and turned around, the bowl in her hand, just quickly enough to see Clint jump slightly. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said and stepped aside to let her see.

Natasha blinked and her mouth dropped for a second. “Do- don’t you think you put a tiny bit too much pepper on that? It will be burning hot.”

“I like it spicy,” Clint just answered and pouted. “Are you doubting me? I know what I’m doing.”

“Of course you do,” Natasha muttered as she poured the mixture in her bowl over the potatoes. She pursed her lips. Was it supposed to look like this? Clint scattered the cheese he grated over the casserole and nodded, content.

“Looks good,” he decided and then took the casserole with both hands. “Let’s get it into the oven!”

Natasha opened the oven for him and closed it when Clint had placed the casserole inside. She was relieved when she saw that Clint turned on the oven. Natasha didn’t remember how to use an oven. In fact she didn’t even know if she had ever known how to use an oven. Nowadays she just didn’t. Ordering out was much easier.

“So? What now?” Clint asked and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Natasha looked around the kitchen. To say it looked as if a bomb had been dropped in this kitchen was an understatement. “We could try to clean up this mess we left?” she suggested.

Clint scrunched up his nose at that. He looked positively disgusted and Natasha wondered why she had even expected another reaction. It still was Clint after all.

“Or… we could just get ourselves in front of the TV and play Mario Kart?” Clint raised his eyebrows suggestively and Natasha could see him wink when she rolled her eyes at him. “Come on, I haven’t played in a while. And Kate always beats me. I need a self-confidence boost.”

“What makes you think you can beat me?” Natasha wanted to know and somehow she had to stop herself from smiling at the thought of Clint and Kate sitting in his flat on his sofa and playing Mario Kart against each other. She knew Clint and she was sure that he was a sore loser. She definitely had to ask Kate about that the next time she saw her.

“Well, prove to me that I can't?” Clint said and Natasha smirked as Clint grinned broadly and then they were running into the living room, stumbling over each other and falling onto the sofa. Natasha couldn’t help but laugh as Clint struggled to get up again, crushing her left side under his weight.

“Get off of me,” she laughed breathlessly. “Get off, I can't breathe!”

Clint laughed and settled down on top of her. “I don’t know I kinda like this a lot. You’re a lot more comfortable than you look.”

Natasha blew a strand of hair out of her face. Then she went into attack mode, hooked her leg around Clint’s, took his wrist and bended it and then quickly flipped them over so that Clint’s head thudded into the hard upholstery of the sofa. He looked up at her, confused but also kind of adoring. Natasha cocked her head to get the hair out of her face and smirked down at him.

“You are also a lot more comfortable than you would think,” she said. “I think I like this better.”

“Can you let go of my wrist, please,” Clint just answered and his voice sounded a bit high-pitched, probably because he didn’t want to let on that he really was in pain. Natasha let go and he sighed quietly. “Thanks. But you know…” His eyes got that mischievous gleam again as he smiled up at her. “I kind of like this, too.”

Natasha smiled, shook her head and pushed at his shoulder as she moved to get up again. “Idiot,” she said fondly. “Now get up and start the game, you know I have no idea how that works.”

Clint chuckled and heaved himself up from the sofa. Natasha watched as he stood in front of the TV and the PlayStation. He looked utterly confused.

“Sometimes I feel like we’re the 95 year-old super soldiers,” Natasha joked. “Can you at least turn on the TV?” she said then and pulled her cellphone from her pocket. “I’ll call Kate.”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly and snatched the cell phone from her hands. “I’ll call her myself.”

Natasha smirked as she watched Clint talk to Kate. He was defensive when he talked to her and that was mainly because he knew that Kate thought he was one of the biggest idiots alive. He argued with her, but did as she told him while grumbling under his breath.

“Okay, yes,” Clint finally said when the game was all set up and ready to go. “Thank you. Yes. Okay.” He looked over at Natasha. “Kate says hi!”

“Hi, Katie,” Natasha responded.

“She says ‘hi Katie’,” Clint told Kate. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks again. Bye.”

He trotted back to the sofa and flopped down next to Natasha. He gave her the controller and she smiled and started the game.

His knee was touching her legs and their shoulders bumped slightly whenever one of them moved and Natasha liked this a lot. Sitting like this with Clint was comfortable. Nice. She would have to do it more often.

Somehow she felt as if she allowed herself this way too often already, but at the same time she knew that it wasn’t nearly enough. She spent so much time working for SHIELD, for Nick, with May, with Steve, that she didn’t have the time to see Clint as often as she would like.

As it turned out, Natasha was quite good at this game, it was clear after only a few minutes. But Clint stayed confident. It didn’t take long for Natasha to realize that not only she was quite good at the game, but also that Clint also really sucked at it. She considered losing on purpose, just to see Clint’s reaction when he finally won.

Natasha won twice in a row. She smiled, watching Clint sulk in silence, a deep frown on his face.

“Come on, another one,” Natasha said and smiled sweetly, leaning her head on Clint’s shoulder. He snorted, but reluctantly nodded.

“Okay, but only one,” he agreed. “And this time, I will win.”

This time he did win. It was more difficult than Natasha had thought to lose on purpose. But she smiled when Clint jumped off the sofa and did a little victory dance. That was definitely worth it.

“I told you! I told you I would win!” he sung happily. “Ha! I just have to do this twenty times in a row now and then the next time I play with Kate…” he left the threat open and Natasha just raised her eyebrows.

“We won’t play another twenty times,” she said and watched Clint’s face fall.

“Why not?” he wanted to know and then quickly sat down next to her again. He grabbed her arm and leaned closer to her. “Come on, Tasha, I’m on a roll. Just – twice more, okay?”

“No.”

“Once more? Please?” And then he pressed a kiss to her cheek. Natasha couldn’t look at him and he knew that, that dirty player, and did it again, pressing another kiss to her cheek and looking at her pleadingly. “Please?”

Natasha frowned, caught his eyes and sighed deeply. How could she say no? “Okay, once more. But really only once, alright?”

A bright, broad grin lit up Clint’s face and before Natasha could react he had leant forward and kissed her gently. On the mouth. Natasha froze.

“I love you, Tasha, you know that, right?” He had never looked more beautiful than in that moment and Natasha leaned back as soon as he let go of her arm. He smiled some more, sat back swiftly and then his focus was on the TV again as he started another game.

‘I know,’ she thought. ‘I-‘

“Come on, now.” Clint shoved her lightly, a playful smirk on his lips and nodded to the TV. “Attention, Miss Romanova.”

Natasha smiled back at him and waited until he looked back to the TV to touch her lips and smile to herself. Her fingers found her necklace for a moment.

Clint won the next game and the game after. It was embarrassing to say that he didn’t even do much convincing for that second game. He was still celebrating his wins when Natasha smelled it.

“Oh no,” she said, got up and sprinted into the kitchen. Clint only took a few seconds to follow her. “Oh, no, no, no,” she repeated and quickly pushed the pot with soup from the stovetop while Clint turned the oven off.

She opened the pot and grimaced. Didn’t look as good as when she had made it. It certainly was overcooked and Natasha was sure that she didn’t want to eat that. She looked over at Clint, who was kneeling in front of the oven and inspecting the casserole, that was already burnt black and also fuming slightly.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“No, it’s not.” Natasha frowned. “We should have looked earlier. You got me distracted with that stupid game.”

“I’m sorry.” Clint got up and took her hands, looking at her with an apologetic look on his face. “I don’t –“ He let her left hand go to scratch his head sheepishly. “I don’t usually cook so much, you know? I didn’t know – that something like this could happen.”

Natasha was surprised that he admitted to not knowing anything about cooking – well, not exactly his words, but she got the gist. She squeezed his hand.

“I may be a bit rusty myself,” she admitted. “But I would like to remind you that this was your idea. You said we could do the stuff normal people do.”

“Well, then… order out? Normal people do order out all the time, I’m told.”

“Call that pizza place we ordered from last time,” she gave back and Clint nodded and pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. She turned and walked back into the living room.

“We should do this more often,” he then called after her and again she just smiled to herself. ‘We really should.’

##

“I swear to everything that means something to me, Pepper, which is mostly you, that I will never ever go to another stupid charity event ever again,” Tony ranted as he finally walked back into the Stark Tower. Pepper’s pumps were clicking on the floor as she hurried after him. “I mean it. Ever.”

“Yes, of course,” Pepper said and rolled her eyes at him.

“Are you rolling your eyes at me? What, again?” Tony looked at her with mock confusion on his face. “Do you think I’m not serious? Because I have to tell you, this time I am absolutely serious.”

“Mr. Stark, I have to inform you-“

“Not now, Jarvis, I’m having a serious conversation about my serious intentions to seriously never go to a charity event again. The people are boring and annoying, the music is horrible and in the end all they want is your money.”

The elevator doors shut behind him and Pepper and Tony pressed the button for the pent house.

“Of course they want your money, it is a charity event,” Pepper argued, her voice slightly bewildered and then she rolled her eyes again. “You know what, I won’t even discuss this with you anymore. You and I, we both know that you will go to the next charity even if I tell you to.”

Tony was just about to respond cleverly and flirtatiously to that when the elevator doors opened and he could see inside the living room.

“Natasha, Clint, what the fuck?” He shouted and quickly strode toward them.

Both of them were sitting comfortably on his sofa, a pizza box on the table in front of them and apparently they were playing Mario Kart on his new PlayStation. Tony also noted that both of them were wearing normal clothes, jeans and t-shirts. He was pretty sure he had never seen the both of them so relaxed.

“Jarvis!”

“See, Sir, this is what I intended to inform you about when you interrupted me.”

“How did you get in here?” Tony demanded and ignored Pepper’s chuckling from behind him.

“Calm down, Tony, I let him in,” Natasha said easily and nodded towards Clint. Tony’s jaw dropped.

“And who the hell let you in?”

“Did you forget who I am?” Natasha just gave back and well, okay, Tony didn’t know what to answer. “That’s what I thought.”

“We ordered pizza for you, too, if that helps?” Clint piped in and gestured to another pizza box under the one he and Natasha were eating from and apparently Pepper saw that as her moment to step in.

“That helps, thank you very much, Clint,” she said, then linked her arm with Tony’s and started dragging him to the kitchen. They both froze. “Oh my-“

“Don’t even act like you don’t have some nice lady who will clean your kitchen up tomorrow morning,” Clint shouted from the living room and that made Pepper snort in amusement. Tony glared at her.

“Well, what, he’s right,” she said.

“Not the point,” Tony muttered. “Jarvis, I want the security standards to be tripled – no, decupled from now on.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Oh, really, Tony,” Pepper said and kissed his cheek quickly. “At least we get some visits like this. We can just pretend we have some friends over like normal couples sometimes do.” And then she left him standing in the kitchen, walking back to the living room. “Hey, Natasha. Did you hear from Maria lately?”

Tony sighed, took another few minutes to grumble to himself and then looked up at the ceiling. “Decupled, Jarvis, I’m serious. If they keep breaking in we can at least make it somewhat of a challenge, right?”

“Certainly, Sir.”

 

 

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> The end is vaguely inspired by a tumblr text post I can't find right now :D
> 
> I also have a tumblr: just-bring-the-boys-out.tumblr.com


End file.
